


A Woman of Style

by allixiler



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27318430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allixiler/pseuds/allixiler
Summary: She's been stressed out lately, but he can't help but notice her new choice of footwear.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Reader, Rafael Barba/You
Kudos: 14





	A Woman of Style

He knew before you even opened the door that it was his girlfriend trudging down the hallway to his office door. You suddenly appeared in his doorway, hands on hips, and an apparent annoyance on your face.

“Well, hello, counselor.” He said with sarcastic tone not looking up from his desk.

You growled;

“Do you know why I’m here?” You asked closing his door behind you.

He didn’t look up from his work, thinking that you were being overdramatic about something;

“You were 10 minutes behind on your usual commute and you missed Lin Manuel Miranda on the subway?”

You sighed;

“No, I would’ve gone ahead and jumped off a building if that happened,” You said taking a seat in front of his desk, “My case was declared a mistrial,”

His head suddenly snapped up at your words. Every prosecutor’s worst nightmare;

“A mistrial?” He asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” You sighed heavily, “One juror. One person on the jury opposed guilty.”

You were unbelievably frustrated. This was by far one of the biggest, most draining cases of your career. The trial had lasted almost 3 months and you were determined to throw the bastard on death row. Nothing else would satisfy you or the victim’s family.

“How? You had the most concrete evidence you could possibly have,” He said putting his work aside, “This was supposed to be a landslide.”

You threw your head back, feeling the worst headache beginning to form;

“It was. I don’t know what happened. How am I going to take this back to court? I argued everything I had to offer.” You said feeling dejected.

He felt terrible for you. He had experienced mistrials before, but never for such an extreme case. He could tell how exhausted you were. You were giving it all you had and it wasn’t proving to be enough. You were nervously chewing on your nail, not really even listening to him anymore. However, his next question did snap you out of your daze;

“What’s the next step?” He asked curiously.

“I’ll meet with the victim and her family to explain the process,” You stated.

Rafael nodded, briefly turning back to his work. He knew you wanted a few minutes to think and him staring at you wouldn’t help much. Your mind was reeling as you thought of all the possible outcomes of the next trial. God only knows how long this would take. Before you knew it, you could possibly be spending 6 months to a year even trying to get a guilty verdict let alone a sentencing order. Your anger slowly was turning into fear;

“Rafael...” You said with a slight crack in your voice.

At the sound of your soft, scared tone, he looked up at you again.

“What if the verdict is not guilty? What if this case carries into next year?” You asked feeling terrified, “What if I can’t win this case?”

His heart broke at your words. He never wanted you to feel scared. He surely never wanted you to lack confidence in your skills as an attorney.

“[Y/N],” He said softly, “You are a damn good lawyer. One of the best. You have to ride this out, because you can win this case. You will win this case,”

You shook your head. It was so hard to believe that when you had to redo everything. You decided you didn’t want to talk about it anymore;

“Can we just talk about something else, please?” You said rubbing your temples.

He quickly scanned the room for some sort of topic changer. That’s when he noticed the new pair of heels on your feet;

“Nice shoes there, Dorothy.” He joked referring to the cherry red stilettos accompanying your black blazer and pants.

You looked at your shoes and clicked them together with a smile;

“You like them?” You questioned.

He smirked;

“I do. But I must ask, where did you acquire these lovely shoes?” He said peeking over the front of his desk.

“Early Christmas gift from Dad,” You replied, “He always complains about how hard I am to shop for, so I think Mom told him to send me shoes.”

“Uh-huh. I like them. They’re very you,” He said letting his eyes examine the shoes, “They really make you stand out.”

You blushed at his compliment, shyly looking down at the shoes;

“Well, you know me. I’m not the most stylish woman to ever live, but I can pull off a pair of heels.” You replied.

He grinned, walking around to the front of his desk and perching against it. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the fiery heels. They were just so...shiny.

“Beautiful shoes for a beautiful woman.” He said offering you his hand.

You took his into yours as he gently brought you to him. You were comforted by his touch, his familiar scent relaxed you. He kissed your forehead, cupping his hands around your face. He hated that you were feeling so discouraged and dejected. He could attest that he had been there one too many times before. He knew how hard it was to accept that your best performance might not be enough. He had full confidence in you though.

“You’re going to be just fine, mi amor. I know you will.” He purred.

You only smiled softly in response, your head never leaving his chest. He knew this was your battle to fight. There wasn’t much he could do to positively change the outcome. But he knew one thing for sure;

He’d be there with you the whole way. One step at a time.


End file.
